Right you lot. I shan’t try to trick you with pics of hot dames. No, I am going for substance here! *turns red trying to hold in laughter* Oh, who the heck am I kidding. Enjoy (or not) these links of….stuff.
South America has seen something like this, in the recent past, has it not?
Some relaxed links for a relaxed day. If you are looking for substance – these are not the Links you are looking for. You want a bit of fun, then stick around!
I would laugh at this guy, but some of my family almost got on a plane to Portland, Maine rather than the Voodoo Donuts one.
Not quite thicc, but a Daily Fail for those that like wimminz.
In the interests of fair play – some Daily Fail about Manly Menz.
Today’s Afternoon Links will focus on how screwed up the rest of the world is, since we are familiar with the absolute loony bin that the North American continent is…
British criminals using social media are as stupid as expected.
I thought Israel was a friendly nation – why do they deserve this?
Um, disregard the part about the “unnamed Swiss bank” plz. Thx.
Links Ahoy! Today, I will mix a little substance/current events in with my usual fluff. Just because.
Got a bit crashy and shooty today on Capitol Hill.
Housing Startzzz!!! If I remember correctly from the past 8 years, this is completely as a result of Teh Prezident’s Awesomeness – nothing cyclical, normal or whatnot.
I am not sure how to snark on this one…can you all help me out?
I have previously described how being cheerful, helpful and non-intrusive had help possibly save me from getting blowed up real good. Well, the other side of the Afghan War (2001-present version) knows a thing or two about sowing doubt and mistrust. And they used just such a tactic against us in the area I was responsible for.
Some of the 3/116th INF at Qarabaghi-Robat
I spent a fair amount of time accompanying the 3/116th INF’s (VA ARNG) patrols in the area around Bagram, AF. Almost every time, the people were a mix of curious, glad, interested or slightly wary when they saw us. However, one of the times I was given quite a fright came when I went with a patrol to the village of Qarabaghi-Robat.
Our patrol had a local policeman along with us – and his behavior told me something was wrong from the get go. Normally, we would come to a village and the inevitable crowd would gather. We would then ask to see the village elder(s) and let them show us around, talk about what was going on in the area, etc. This time was different. Our policeman started suggesting that we wait outside the village, and he would go find the elder and bring him to us. When we told him that we had to go into the village, he became very agitated. He left to find someone while we waited where you see in the picture below.
Crowd gathering at Qarabaghi Robat
The people that did gather around while we waited for the elder were not acting normal either – sullen, not talkative (a non-talkative Afghan from the Bagram area was truly alarming) and they made my interpreter nervous. The interpreter (a fellow from Kabul) told me that the people were not happy we were there – and they were making rather rude and crude remarks about us, and him as well.
Eventually the policeman returned and told us no elder or other representative of the village was around, and we should wait for them outside the village. Before I could think of something suitably sarcastic to say, the NCO leading the patrol said, “You tell him we are going to look around, and he can wait somewhere else if he wants,” to our interpreter. The policeman then did leave, much to my surprise. Also, the crowd had grown in size and surliness.
The NCO and I looked at each other, shrugged, and moved out. A group of men of the village followed us as we walked through the center of the village and turned down an alley. We had obviously gone someplace nobody wanted us to go by the villager’s reaction. They were getting louder, and our interpreter mentioned they were starting to make threats.
When we got to the end of the alley, one of the soldiers told me he had walked over a hollow sounding patch of ground – and that when his platoon had been in the South of Afghanistan (near the Pakistan border), this was how many weapons caches were hidden. We stopped to check the spot out, borrowing a shovel from the property owner (he looked like he had just sucked an entire lemon). The covered over pit was full of garbage, and we figured it wasn’t a weapons cache – but as we were giving the shovel back, the interpreter told us that “these people are crazy”. I asked him why, he said that they were telling him how they were going to kill him, and then all of us. I thought about it, and drew inspiration from that legendary hero – King Arthur, of Monty Python and the Holy Grail – RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!
I quietly mentioned to the NCO what was being said, and we agreed it was time to leave Qarabaghi-Robat.
As we were leaving, the village elder suddenly appeared. He confined his conversation to asking for supplies and help with the local school. I was upset at first, but then had to admire the man. Here were his people threatening to kill us, and he wanted school supplies…
We went back to Bagram AF and reported everything. Later, I had the leader of the area around that village, one Haji Sultan Qand (aka “Commander Qand”) apologize on behalf of the people and promise to give them a swift kick up the backside. He said that someone had told the village that the Americans were coming to look through your houses (a particularly touchy subject with the Afghans – you would bring dishonor to them, see their women, etc.) and do all sorts of bad things. The enemy had very cleverly engaged in disinformation. If we had not kept our cool, or someone had as much as thrown a rock – the effort would have probably yielded great results for the enemy. Forget LT Calley and My Lai, it would have been MAJ Swiss and Qarabaghi Robat.
So the lesson for those that would engage in counterinsurgency (or policing, hint hint), you must be prepared to sometimes just stop looking around and leave people alone. Then find out what is going on, if you do need to go back for a good reason (we did not). For police, I think, the hassling, the stop and frisk, and searches of homes that more resemble a ransacking would have a similar bad effect. The people of the community you are policing would then be confirmed in their belief you don’t care, you are just there to push them around. They will be sullen, uncooperative, or hostile.
Better to just come back if everyone is riled up at you – and there is no threat to life or property. I wasn’t about to shoot up a village to inspect a garbage pit, and the police should not trash homes or violate people’s bodily integrity just trying to find their own garbage dump.
It is sort of dreary and blah around here, and work is a grind. What cures that? MOAR fluff links. Prepare for a dose of the “not have to think too hard” links!
AIEE!! DANGER!!! DEATH!!! (possibly, maybe sometime in the future. Perhaps)
Once I finished laughing at myself (I was thinking of the look on my face) I said “This is important. Did he say ‘some mines” or ‘some more mines’?” The interpreter turned to the farmer and then yelled up to me “He said some more mines. But you should be OK, if you stay on the path.”
The “path” was not as wide as my size 12 boots. Putting aside the thought “this would be a really stupid way to die”, I managed to make the last 35 meters or so up the cliff-side. Why did the farmer warn me? Because some tidewater Virginians had towed an old Soviet tractor that had gotten stuck in his village.
They see me rollin’, they hatin’, patrolling
Late 2004, I was the CJTF Eagle Civil Affairs Officer, and I was with a squad of Virginia Army National Guard as they visited Ashrafkhel, in Parwan Province, Afghanistan. One of the men in the village pointed out the small cliffs near the Panjshir River and said that some suspicious people had been up there a couple of nights ago. Half the squad swarmed up the two paths nearest where the man had pointed. Thinking I was clever, I took a path over to the north of where everyone else was going up, to keep an eye on things. Halfway up, I heard the interpreter yell up to me “He says the weather may have uncovered some (unintelligible) mines.”
So I was able to avoid stomping on old Taliban or Northern Alliance mines, join the Virginians and find evidence that someone had been tinkering with things that go boom.
Well, lookie here. Somebody done been naughty.
Why did these people help us? When we rolled in to town, they looked like most of the people in the area. Thinking things like “Now what?” “These guys, again?” “Oh boy, the circus is in town!” The squad leader asked the first man we spoke to “how is the tractor doing?” The man’s face lit up and he said something to the effect of “Oh, it is you guys! The ones who helped us!” The month before, this same squad had rolled through and used their HMMWVs to pull the village’s only tractor (an old Soviet model) out of a ditch. No doors kicked in, no searches, no swaggering around acting tough and such. Just some farm boys helping out other farmers. We had a nice chat about how the old tractor was now kaputt, but they were hoping to get a new one soon. That was the point when someone joined us and mentioned where the naughty folks had been hanging out.
Some number of hours later, when my sphincter had finally unclenched, I reported everything to the Ops Officer. I even had the insight to mention how this was a nice contrast to the company of Airborne guys that had caused quite a stir booting in doors and barging through houses in a village to the north, a while back. But it took reading various police misconduct stories to make the connection here at home.
Gaining trust, when you are seen as (or actually are) outsiders, armed and seemingly unaccountable to anyone, can be difficult. It takes restraint. When faced with intransigent, maybe even sullen and uncooperative people, it can be very be very difficult to not get impatient and resort to “tell me what I want to know/comply/obey!” It also takes time. If you roll up and say “trust me”, most people are going to reflexively go on guard.
The good will many police departments had years back, was earned over a long time. It probably arose, in part, from having the same beat cops around. They got to know you, and you got to see they were not just interested in hassling you, writing citations or getting in a bust right at the end of a shift for some sweet overtime.
To rebuild the trust lost by many departments (primarily during the Drug War) from property grabbing to door busting to stop and frisk, it will take restraint and time. We need cops who help a drunk get home from the bus stop or train station, call for a wrecker for a broken down car and waits until it shows up, stop in and talk to store owners, bar tenders and other people in the neighborhood and then amiably go on their way. Rather than act like an occupying army, pull a tractor out of a ditch.
